Chapter 112: Chapter 112: Path of Blood

​The oppressive darkness of the Deep Root Cellar no longer felt like a predator to Dayat. Instead, it had become his element. Beneath the skin of his forearms, the emerald-green magic circuits pulsed in perfect synchronicity with a heartbeat driven by the Maiden Protocol’s artificial adrenaline. The cooling, serene sensation of the Vaelith Spirit’s Mana merged with the searing, white-hot heat of Dola’s systems, creating a resonance of power so absolute that the world seemed to slow down around him.

​”Dola, status?” Dayat whispered. His voice was low, raspy, yet carried a new, undeniable weight of authority.

​Dola stood beside him, a silent sentinel of steel and violet light. Her eyes glowed with a stable luminescence, though strange emerald flickers occasionally danced across her bionic pupils—remnants of the ’interference’ from the World Tree Spirit. “Maiden adrenaline levels are optimal. Vaelith Mana synchronization for manifestation structures has reached 94%. Target extraction: Kancil and Lunethra. Location: 10 meters ahead.”

​Dayat stepped forward. Every footfall upon the damp, moss-covered floor was silent, muffled by the mana-shroud radiating from his body. He stopped in front of Kancil’s cell. The boy was still there, clutching his sharpened bone shard, lost in a hollow trance.

​”Kancil,” Dayat called out.

​The boy didn’t turn. He seemed to have drowned in a black hole of his own making, a psychological abyss where pain could no longer reach him. Dayat didn’t waste time on sentimentality. He raised his hand, manifesting an Industrial Diamond Saw reinforced with Vaelith Mana. The machine emitted a high-frequency hum, nearly inaudible, as it bit into the iron-root bars. It didn’t grind; it glided through the organic restraints like a hot wire through wax.

​As the bars fell away with a muffled thud, Dayat entered and placed a firm hand on Kancil’s shoulder. “Wake up. We’re leaving. Now.”

​Kancil looked up. For a fleeting second, a spark of the old Kancil—the frightened child—flickered in his eyes. But it was swallowed instantly by a darkness far more profound. Kancil stood up without a word. Dayat extended his hand, and violet-green light solidified in his palm. A tactical blade with a high-frequency vibrating edge—a Vibro-Knife—materialized.

​”Use this,” Dayat commanded, his tone chillingly flat. “Whoever stands in our way, do not hesitate.”

​Kancil accepted the weapon. The frantic vibration of the blade seemed to harmonize with the tremors of his own suppressed rage. He gave a single, sharp nod.

​Next was the cell directly across the hall. Lunethra sat upright, her emerald eyes widening as she saw Dayat standing free in the corridor. The moment her bars were severed, she lunged outward, her movements fueled by a sudden surge of hope. Ignoring Dola’s rigid presence, Lunethra offered Dayat the most genuine smile he had ever seen—a mixture of profound gratitude and an unspoken, burgeoning affection.

​”I knew you would find a way,” she whispered softly, her hand lingering near his.

​Dola abruptly stepped between them, her mechanical presence cutting the distance. “Warning: Primary focus is tactical extraction. Energy efficiency duration is limited.” Her voice was sharper than usual, possessing a mechanical edge that sounded suspiciously like irritation.

​Dayat merely exhaled a short, sharp breath. “Move. We need our gear back.”

​They ghosted through the corridor toward the confiscation chamber on the upper level. Dola led the way, her thermal sensors piercing through the stone and wood, while Kancil followed in the rear like a bloodthirsty shadow.

​”Two guards ahead,” Dola reported. “Stationed at the organic lift gate.”

​Dayat felt his anger begin to simmer, but his tactical mind remained crystalline. “Kancil, the one on the right is yours. I’ll take the left. Dola, ensure no alarms are triggered.”

​”Acknowledged.”

​The two Elven guards were leaning against the lift, laughing as they discussed the public execution scheduled for the morrow. They mocked how the “Human Hero” would squeal when the roots began to feast upon his heart. They never sensed the approach of death until the shadows lunged.

​Dayat struck from the darkness, his left hand clamping over the guard’s mouth while his manifested blade drove deep into the gap of the Elf’s neck armor. On the other side, Kancil was far more brutal. He didn’t just kill; he plunged the Vibro-Knife repeatedly into the guard’s chest with a cold, terrifying intensity. Dark, hot blood sprayed across Kancil’s face, but the boy didn’t even blink. He just kept stabbing until the body went limp.

​Lunethra averted her eyes for a moment, but she didn’t protest. She knew the world they lived in no longer had room for mercy.

​With the guards neutralized, they entered the storage room. There, atop a pedestal of crystal, lay their confiscated belongings. Dayat lunged for Silver Thorn. The moment his fingers wrapped around the adamantine hilt, the legendary blade vibrated violently, emitting a low, resonant thrum as if welcoming a master who finally possessed the Mana to wield it properly. He sheathed it across his back in one fluid motion.

​Next, he retrieved Lunethra’s staff—an exquisite golden artifact tipped with a massive green crystal. “Yours,” Dayat said, handing it over.

​As Lunethra gripped the staff, a golden aura enveloped her, stitching together her tattered stamina and restoring her regal poise. “Thank you. Now, I can truly fight by your side.”

​”Dola, set a welcome gift in case they follow us down,” Dayat ordered.

​He raised his hand, manifesting something different this time. Four small, six-legged metallic spheres—Spider-Mines. The little automatons scurried away with rapid clicking sounds, latching onto the primary support roots of the dungeon and cloaking themselves beneath the moss.

​”Autonomous mines deployed. Trigger: Detection of hostile Mana signatures exceeding 500 units,” Dola reported.

​Just as they turned toward the lift to ascend to the surface, a cold, mocking laugh echoed from the end of the hall. An Elf with short, silver hair and armor far more ornate than a common guard stood there. His eyes were a sharp, predatory yellow, fixed on Dayat with pure disgust.

​”Where do you think you’re going, little rat?” he sneered.

​”Veyron,” Lunethra hissed, her grip tightening on her staff. “The Vice Warden. He makes his brother, Veynar, look like a saint. He is a butcher.”

​Veyron stepped forward, drawing a slender rapier that hummed with wind magic. “Veynar talks too much about philosophy. To me, you are simply trash that needs to be incinerated. And you, traitorous Princess… the Queen will be delighted if I bring you back in a… broken state.”

​Dayat felt the Maiden System flare with a high-level threat warning. “Dola, analysis!”

​”Subject: Veyron. Mana Level: High. Attribute: Wind. Attack velocity estimated to exceed standard human reflexes. Recommending a coordinated strike.”

​Dayat clenched his fists, the emerald circuits on his arms glowing brighter. “You two, handle any reinforcements coming from the rear. He’s mine.”

​Veyron laughed, a sharp, grating sound. “One on one? You truly believe you can best me?”

​Veyron vanished, moving with the speed of a gale. He was a blur of green light. Dayat barely had time to react as the tip of Veyron’s rapier grazed his shoulder, slicing through cloth and skin with effortless ease.

​”Dayat!” Lunethra cried out.

​”Stay back!” Dayat barked. His adrenaline surged again. He could feel Dola trying to take control of his movements, but he suppressed her. He wanted this. He needed to reclaim the dignity they had stripped from him in that cell.

​As Veyron lunged for a finishing blow, Dayat manifested a Tactical Shield made of high-density transparent polymer in his left hand. Clang! Sparks of magic and steel flew as the rapier skidded off the surface.

​”You’re fast,” Dayat said, his smile as cold as a grave. “But I have something you’ve never seen.”

​Using the close proximity, Dayat triggered an instant manifestation: a tactical Stun Gun delivering 10 million volts, reinforced with Vaelith Mana. He rammed the device into the gap of Veyron’s abdominal armor.

​BZZZZZTTTT!

​An explosion of blue and green electricity erupted. Veyron was sent hurtling backward, his body arching violently as his magical nervous system was overloaded by a discharge of pure science and spirit. He had never encountered an attack so brutal, so alien to his understanding of combat.

​Kancil didn’t miss the opening. Without a word, he lunged forward, driving his Vibro-Knife into Veyron’s thigh and twisting it with a sickening crunch. Veyron’s scream of agony filled the dungeon.

​”Enough, Kancil,” Dayat said, though his own eyes held no pity. “We don’t have time to play with him.”

​Dayat stood over the crawling, twitching Vice Warden. “Tell your Queen… this is just the beginning.”

​Before Veyron could respond, Dayat drew Silver Thorn. A single, clean arc of silver light flashed through the air. The Elf’s head rolled away, his eyes still wide with shock. “Actually, don’t bother. You won’t be seeing her again.”

​The four of them stepped into the organic lift. Dola pressed her fingers against the control panel, her Maiden code bypassing the magical locks in milliseconds. The lift began to ascend, the floor vibrating under the sheer speed of their climb.

​”We will exit at the waste disposal port,” Dola informed them. “Beyond that, we will likely face the full strength of the capital’s Paladins.”

​Dayat checked his weapons. Silver Thorn was back in its sheath, still humming with the blood it had just tasted. The Mana circuits in his body throbbed with a steady, cooling rhythm, and the lingering rage was now his fuel.

​”Let them come,” Dayat said, his gaze fixed on the rising ceiling. “I want to see how their ’holy’ light fares against our darkness.”

​The lift stopped with a dull thud. The doors ground open, revealing the crisp, cool night air of Vaelith. In the distance, the blare of warning trumpets began to echo across the city, one after another.

​The Great Escape had truly begun.

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